


30 Years and One More To Go

by speakingwosound (sev313)



Category: West Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 18:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sev313/pseuds/speakingwosound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh has never been sure if CJ knows, if CJ <i>sees</i> it, like Leo and Donna and Sam do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	30 Years and One More To Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halfeatenmoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfeatenmoon/gifts).



> This takes place the night before the Bartlet Presidential Library opening. Three years after the 7th season and about half-way through President Santos' first term.

New Hampshire hasn’t changed. Not since Josh was 23 years-old, bright-eyed and innocent, having just come off of a Fulbright scholarship and three years at Yale Law School. It had been his first but, here, after just completing his seventh national campaign, nothing has changed. The hotel is the same, the little country store down the street is the same, and this bar is so familiar that Josh can still taste that first Vermont Magic Hat as if it wasn't 30 years ago.

Leaning over, Josh runs his fingers along the back of Sam’s chair, giving a little exclamation of satisfaction when he finds it.

“Josh?”

He looks up to see CJ peering at him over her glasses in that way that makes him feel eight years old every time. Ignoring it, he grins at her. “I found my name.”

“You found your _name_?” She asks it as if he’s lost his mind, and he puts his beer down because, well, maybe she’s at least a little bit right.

“First time I was here I etched my name into the back of this chair.”

“Fifty years later?” CJ asks, and he kind of wants to give her the finger, except she’s leaning over the table to peer at the chair and Josh takes it as a win.

“Thirty." And, Jesus, that makes him feel old.

Now Sam and Toby are looking at it, too, and Josh feels a little source of pride as he runs his index finger across the etching. _Josh Lyman, LLM, '84_. He had been idealistic then, dreaming about candidates and politics and power, and believing that he'd get it right on the first try. That Congressman Geller was the one. And although it hadn't been that easy, although he'd had to first go through Congressman Brennan, Senator Hoynes, MS, and security leaks, here he is, now, having accomplished all he set out to.

The thought is humbling and he smiles, perhaps a little wistfully. “It’s amazing, isn’t it, what we’ve done?” 

CJ’s eyes soften as she looks at him, and he knows he must have said something right, because she touches his wrist and smiles. “Yes, it is. You’ve done it, Josh. Three years in the White House, and he’s still the real deal.”

“I got lucky.” He means it, in so many more ways than one, but he’s never been sure if CJ knows that, if CJ _sees_ it, like Leo and Donna and Sam do.

“You can say that again.” She chuckles, taking her hand from his wrist to motion for the waitress to bring them another round.

Josh's phone rings and he knows that he's already had too many, more than he has in months, because his fingers feel fuzzy as he reaches into his pocket to answer it. "Lyman."

“Josh?”

“Mr. President.” Josh grins, leaning back in his chair and accepting the beer that the waitress hands him.

“Wanted to let you know we’ve landed.”

“Good, good. You're a little late.” He says it softer than he should, in the voice he uses when they’re in their room in the Residence, away from cameras and ex-press secretaries and deputy chief of staffs.

"Took a little while to get off the ground. Nothing worth mentioning." Matt pauses, then his voice drops to meet Josh's. “Have you been drinking?”

Josh looks at the empty glasses littering their small table. “A little.”

Matt laughs. “Good, you should let loose more. Go, enjoy yourself, say hi to CJ and Sam and Toby for me.”

“Will do.”

“And Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“Take a couple aspirin."

“Yeah.” Josh has the crazy urge to say something along the lines of _I miss you_ or _I don’t like sleeping without you_ , but he’s in a bar crowded with politicians there for Bartlet’s library dedication and, anyway, sentiments like that never sound right coming from him. “I promise.”

“Good.” Matt pauses for a second, then, “I’m in the car, but I do, okay?”

Josh smiles, soft in that way that he so rarely is. “I know. I do, too.” Josh hangs up and leans back into the table, where Toby and Sam have moved to a debate on the education tax bill. He feels eyes on him, and he glances to his left to see CJ watching him.

"What?"

CJ shrugs. "Just thinking about the baby. Danny wanted to bring him, but, he’s still hard to travel with."

Josh doesn't believe her, but he smiles enough to show that he'll play along until she's ready. "Donna wishes she were here, too. She really wanted to see you, but the First Lady's in Portugal and-" He shrugs. CJ's been doing this long enough to understand.

"Tell her we missed her. When you both get back to DC."

"Will do. And tell the same to Danny."

"Of course."

They're silent and Josh starts strumming his fingers on the edge of his glass. "CJ-"

"Josh," CJ grins, nodding her chin at his anxious fingers.

Josh pauses a moment, because he could just let this go. He should. There are already way too many people who know, but, "It's strange that they'll only be one more campaign."

"It doesn't have to be." CJ pauses, as though she's choosing her words very carefully. "I'm sure President Santos would understand."

"He would." Josh takes a long sip of his beer. Memories of Grasshoppers and drunken co-eds rush back to him and he shakes his head. "Leo told me that I'd know when I found my man. And I have."

"You're sure?"

There's so much more than a question there. CJ's fingers are wrapped tightly around her beer and Josh leans forward to rest his hand in hers. "Yeah. I know. Leo is never wrong."

CJ laughs, shaking her head and Josh is sure that she's remembering a half dozen times that would prove Josh wrong, but she doesn't say any of them. She just tightens her fingers around his and squeezes. "President Santos is a lucky man."

“Mmm,” Josh murmurs non-commitally. They’ve never been able to have this conversation before, not that they’re really having it now, but Josh is feeling nostalgic and Danny has already retired for the night. “So am I.”

“We all are.” CJ’s eyes are shining and she squeezes his hand before letting it go and finishing off her beer. “I should call it a night. Early morning tomorrow.”

Josh wants to protest, wants to remind her that they used to spend nights in the Roosevelt Room playing cards long into the night, but she’s not so young anymore and, if he’s really being honest, neither is he. “Yeah, me too.” He pushes his chair back and stands, leaning over to kiss her gently on the cheek.

“Good night, mon amour.” She gives him a little wave as she disappears out of the bar.

Josh considers following her. He has a room up there, the same room he’s stayed in for thirty years, with the same flowered bedspread and probably the same bars of soap in the bathroom. It would be a fitting ending to all of this, but he’s still feeling slightly off, so he grabs his suit jacket off the back of his chair, waves goodbye to Sam who’s chatting with an intern at the bar, and heads out into the night.

There aren’t many cabs in New Hampshire, but the ones there are wait outside of bars and Josh falls into one, giving them the address to President Bartlet’s farm house. It’s not a long drive out of town, but Josh is already half-asleep when the taxi stops.

The house is quiet. There are a pile of tea mugs in the kitchen sink and a half-eaten plate of cookies on the counter, but otherwise the lights are off. Josh takes a cookie, then heads up the creaky stairs and pushes open the door to the bedroom.

Matt is lying on his side, facing away from the door, the sheets low on his hips, and he doesn’t turn around when Josh enters. As quietly as he can with his still-fuzzy fingers, Josh strips to his boxers and slips into bed behind Matt.

“Hey.” Matt leans back into Josh’s body. “Thought you were staying in town tonight.”

Josh shrugs. “I want to see Abby and the girls in the morning.” Josh lays a kiss on Matt’s shoulder. “I’m going to miss New Hampshire.” He doesn’t add _when you leave office_ or _when I retire_ or any of the other promises that he can’t make to Matt until they’re officially out of office, but Matt’s hand comes up to tighten around his where it rests on Matt’s chest.

“There’s still one more campaign.” Matt’s voice is low, rough, and it’s almost a question but not quite.

“Yeah,” Josh agrees, kissing his shoulder again. “One more.”


End file.
